Tales of a White Mage: Sands of Blood
by Forthewhiteorder
Summary: This is the first in a line of stories following the adventures of a white mage who wanders across vanadiel helping those in need.
1. Chapter 1

Tales of a White Mage

Sands of Blood

(Chapter 1)

The wind was howling across the sands. It was a blistering hot day, the sun beating down relentlessly upon all those unfortunate enough to be found beneath its gaze. "Then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It's always hot in the dunes" a man in a dark cloak said to himself as he walked across the desert. "I'll just consider it added incentive to get to Selbina as soon as possible."

The man was on a journey to the small coastal town of Selbina. It was rumored that he could find a merchant there who possessed arcane scrolls which he might find useful in his travels. Perhaps he could even find a spell of protection more powerful than his already potent abilities…

Suddenly, a familiar noise interrupted his musings. A battle was raging not too far from his current location. Still, he remained unconcerned. Nothing in the area was any match for him. The dunes were a popular training grounds of sorts for fledgling adventurers. Combat masters across all of Vanadiel would send their pupils to the dunes in order to prove themselves in battle against beastmen, particularly against the goblins who so often frequented the area.

The situation was best for everyone involved, except perhaps the goblins. The settlement of Selbina remained protected, as did the caravans that often traveled there from Bastok. In return, the adventurers were able to gain much needed combat experience. Oftentimes, the adventurers would team up with the students of other masters to combat the beastmen together. These relationships formed early in their careers were frequently invaluable to them during later quests. And so it was that the wanderer very nearly decided to simply walk around the outskirts of the battle and continue on his way. Until a cry of pain gave him pause. A _human_ cry of pain.

Abandoning any thoughts of ignoring the battle, the cloaked figure ran over the high dune of sand separating him from the fight as fast as he could. The sight which awaited him at the top was not a pleasant one. A robed female hume was lying in the sand clutching her shoulder. Her hand was covered in blood that flowed from a deep dagger wound. She was sobbing slightly as she faced down the goblin ambusher who was standing over the prone form of her obviously dead elvaan companion. It seemed as though she were trying to cast a spell towards the goblin, but her pain and terror, and likely the grief she felt for her fallen companion, destroyed any attempts at concentration. As the goblin stood over her, she closed her eyes and waited for death, defeated.

Her eyes quickly snapped back open, however, when she heard the sound of metal hitting metal. Before her stood a tall figure dressed in a dark cloak. The goblins dagger had pierced straight through the front folds of the cloth, but was then stopped. The young woman barely dared to hope that her life may be spared.

The goblin took a step backwards, confused by its failed attack. The dark figure took advantage of its hesitation and removed his cloak, throwing it directly at the stunned goblin. The eyes of the young black mage widened. Standing before her was a tall man, dressed in the ceremonial plate armor reserved for high ranking members of the Order of White Mages. He didn't appear to be much older than she was, but his eyes belied the extreme difference in the amount of experiences each had gone through. At his side was a shining battle hammer, blessed by the high priests of Altana for the battle against evil.

Impressive as the hammer was, it played no part in the goblins defeat. Surrounded by an overwhelming aura of pure white magic, the mage put one hand forward and shouted, "Holy!" The ultimate destructive spell of the white order tore into the flesh of the unfortunate goblin, and reduced his body to mere ashes in a matter of seconds. After taking a deep, calming breath, the man turned to face the young woman.

"Are you alright down there? I see you took a nasty hit on your shoulder before I showed up."

The younger mage looked up at her savior, but could not bring any words forth as the events of the past few minutes finally took their toll on her. Looking at the body of her deceased friend, she promptly broke down into tears, sobbing until rivers of tears began flowing across the blazing sands.

The man slowly walked over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. When he removed it, all traces of the wound had vanished. The young woman took little comfort in this fact, however. She was still overcome with grief by the loss of her friend. She doubted she would ever find comfort in this awful world again… "Hey there, there's no need to cry. I'll have your friend up and fit to travel in no time."

The black mage raised her head immediately. Looking into the eyes of her rescuer, she finally seemed to find her voice. "That's impossible. I have studied with some of the finest mages on all the continent. No one can bring back the dead. Why would you put such cruel false hopes into my mind?" she asked in a wavering voice.

The white mage said nothing in response. Instead, he walked over to the body of her fallen compatriot. Looking the body over, he noted that the elvaan had been stabbed through the heart from behind. 'Attacked from behind,' the man thought to himself. 'They never had a chance.' He stood up and focused on the task at hand. A white aura once again began to build up around his body. The last aura had been harsh, formed of sheer, untamed magic. This time was different. The white magic seemed soothing, comforting, as though it were an old friend. For several minutes the mage stood gathering energy to himself. The young woman watched in amazement. The energy in the air was palpable. Finally, the man shot the white light into the body of her friend, and whispered one word. "Raise."

The white aura that was previously surrounding the white mage moved across the body of the fallen elvaan. It lifted his corpse from the sand and bathed it in white light. Finally, it deposited him on his feet, and as he landed he gasped for air, and his heart began to beat anew. He looked at the man who had saved him and croaked a quick "Thank you" before collapsing in the sand. His female companion quickly ran to his side and proceeded to hug the poor man nearly to death.

"Take it easy on him miss, he's going to be very weak for a while." The white mage panted from his position on the sand. Down on one knee, sweat was pouring freely from his brow to the ground below. It was obvious that this latest spell had taken a great toll on him. "I'm not in the best of shape either I'm afraid. I won't be able to cast any more magic until I've had some time to rest."

The younger spell caster looked at him in awe. "I can't believe what I just saw. You raised him from the dead! I thought that ability was only a rumor!"

"It's commonly thought to be only a rumor because of the massive difficulties involved. Only powerful mages are capable of drawing forth the sheer energy required, and even then the spell can only be successfully performed within one day of the person being deceased. The odds of someone finding a caster capable of the spell in that amount of time is very slim." The man explained.

"Thank Altana you arrived when you did, in that case." The woman replied. Beneath her, the elvaan warrior began to stir. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he looked up at the man and once again said, "Thank you. You saved my life, and that of my dear friend. I don't know how we can ever repay you. My name is Lantis." At this, the woman added, "Indeed, I don't know how we can ever thank you enough. My name is Linya. If you require anything of us, please ask."

"Please my friends," the white mage responded, "you need not think of yourselves as being indebted to me. As a member of the holy order, it is my sacred duty to help those in need. I would never dream of asking for compensation. You may call me Deronis. Knowing that I have helped those in need is all I could ever ask for."

The sun continued to beat down on the three adventurers, but its position in the sky was falling quickly. Night would soon be upon them. "We must find shelter, so that your friend and I can rest until the after effects of the spell have run their course." Deronis quickly scanned the area from his position in the sand, but could find nowhere suitably defensible to rest. "What were the two of you doing so far out here anyways? Most trainees your age stick closer to the highlands."

Lantis was the one to answer him. "My master requested that I journey to the port of Selbina. He said that there I would find an old warrior who could teach me to be more diverse in my talents. I asked Linya to accompany me on the journey in case I ran into trouble. Now I regret bringing her along." Linya's retort came quickly. "Sure, after all, you'd have done just fine on your own, wouldn't you?"

Deronis interrupted the argument before it could escalate. "Now friends, there is no need to bicker about past events. It seems Altana must truly be with us, as she has once again answered our needs." At this, he pointed to distant dune. Sure enough, a caravan could be seen coming close by to their position. The chocobo-drawn wagons would be within shouting distance in mere minutes. "Linya, please intercept the caravan and explain to them our situation. I'm sure that they won't mind carrying a few extra passengers to Selbina, if that is indeed where they are headed."

As night fell, the weary travelers gratefully rode in the back of one of the caravan's wagons. Deronis reflected upon the day's events as his two new acquaintances caught up on some much needed sleep. 'Today hasn't turned out so badly at all. I managed to help those in need, and in the process my trip to Selbina has been made all the easier. Truly this is Altana's method of rewarding just actions.' However, even as he thanked Altana once again for his good fortune, Deronis couldn't help but feel as though a dark presence were looming over the horizon.

To be continued….


	2. Chapter 2

Tales of a White Mage

Sands of Blood

(Chapter 2)

Deronis was jolted awake the next morning when the wagon he was resting in came to an abrupt halt. Nearby, Linya and Lantis were blinking in sleepy confusion. Determined to find out what had stopped the caravan, Deronis slipped out the back and began walking towards the front of the line.

As he approached the front wagon, he noticed the smell. Bodies don't keep well in the dunes, even for a short period of time. It was unusual, though, for bodies to be left out in the open. Adventurers always buried their prey, after looting them of course. As he came close enough to the site to see the remains, however, he quickly realized why the bodies had been left. The adventurers hadn't won.

As Deronis walked over to the bodies, he ran into Galin, a retired paladin and leader of the caravan. Deronis held the elderly man in high esteem, as he did all those who served in the noble order of paladins.

"This is the second battle we've run across in as many days. These poor souls weren't as fortunate as you and your friends though." Galin stated without preamble.

"Indeed, the beastmen in this region seem to be agitated for some reason." Deronis looked carefully at the ground for a few moments. "Look at these wounds. It appears this group was hit from behind, much like the young travelers I rescued yesterday. It is strange that both battles seem to have been initiated by the goblins. It is often the adventurers who start the fighting."

"I was thinking the same thing myself. This isn't the first trouble I've run into either. The caravan has been attacked three times in the last two weeks we've been traveling from Bastok, and the problem seems to be getting worse the farther we go." Galin looked away to the horizon, where the sun was slowly rising in the sky. "My guess is that something in these sands is scaring them, and scaring them good."

The two silently went to work. Galin began digging graves, while Deronis prepared the bodies and uttered a quick prayer for each of the fallen warriors. Five adventurers had been slain in the ambush, and each of them were far too young. As Deronis finished his task, he silently asked Altana to watch over the souls of the fallen in the next life.

As the caravan began moving on once again, Deronis made his way back to his wagon. Inside, Lantis and Linya were curious as to the cause of the delay. He simply told them that they had run into an obstacle, and that he and Galin had taken care of it. Deronis shifted the focus of the discussion to Lantis.

"So, how are you feeling this morning?" Deronis asked him. "It is no easy task, coming back from the dead."

"I've felt better." Lantis replied honestly, "But I'm feeling much stronger than I was last night. I'll be back to normal in no time."

"You're incredibly lucky that Deronis came along. We both are, actually. What are the odds of running into two powerful white mages in such a short amount of time?" Linya added.

"Two? You have run into another member of my order in this region?" Deronis asked, intrigued.

"Yes, and this was no initiate either. His armor was very similar to yours. He must have been a high ranking priest." Lantis told him.

"And what of his weapon, did he carry a maul like my own?" Deronis inquired further.

"No, he was carrying a wooden wand. Why, does that somehow denote his standing with the church?" Linya questioned him.

Deronis was lost in thought. 'That may very well explain what is going on here…'

"Quickly, did he say where he was going? Did he travel alone, or with a large group of warriors?" Deronis demanded.

Startled, Linya and Lantis looked at one another. "He traveled alone," they replied, "he said he was headed to a hidden beach, to pacify a lost soul. We simply wished him luck on his journey and he continued on his way. It seemed to be very important."

'That fool. Surely he would not attempt this task by himself. What could he be thinking?' Deronis's thoughts were racing. 'It would explain all the disturbances in the area, and I have been feeling a dark presence ever since I set foot upon these sands.' His last thought was the most troubling, however. 'If he goes through with it, the death count will be enormous.'

Linya and Lantis looked at one another once again. Deronis's recent behavior was beginning to worry them.

"Is everything alright?" Lantis asked him.

After a moment, Deronis responded. "I'm afraid I'll be taking a quick detour before I head to Selbina. I will ride with the caravan until we reach the outpost on the outskirts of the town. There you and I shall part ways. Stay with the wagons and help to protect them in my absence, and you should arrive there without difficulty. Perhaps after my business is concluded, I shall see you again in the port."

Linya replied for them both. "We will be sad to see you leave, master white mage. We are grateful to you for all you have done for us. Are you positive you won't require any aid? We would be happy if we could help you in any way."

Deronis smiled at her, but shook his head. "Thank you for your sincere offer, but I'm afraid I must do this alone. Haste is of the essence."

When the caravan arrived at the outpost later that day, Deronis parted ways with his young friends. As he continued North, he recalled his own history in the dunes. He, like many other fledgling adventurers, had trained here in his youth. However, these were not the memories he dwelled on. Not so long ago, he had journeyed to the dunes with several of his most powerful friends. He had been called upon by his order to battle a most dangerous foe, as a right of passage. Alone, he would have been quickly destroyed, but together, he and his friends had managed to vanquish the terrible evil. Upon his return to the cathedral, he had been rewarded with the magnificent hammer resting at his side.

He and his friends had battled the demon on a little known beach that was hidden by a dark cave, far north in the area. He feared, after learning the destination of this new white mage, that the younger man planned to complete a similar assignment single handedly. If that were the case, the results could be disastrous. While not many of the younger adventurers new of the secret area, those that did were often the best and bravest in the region. Frequently they trained together there in large groups. They were young enough not to stand a chance, but good enough that they might foolishly try to help his fellow cleric if, and when, he started to lose the fight. If that were to happen, they would inevitably lose their lives.

Even worse, the unknown white mage would need to release a sacred seal surrounding the area in order to eliminate the threat posed by the aura of the monster. If he did so, and then failed to banish the demon back to hell, it would be free to roam the area, possibly even attacking Selbina. While it was likely that the combined efforts of all those in Selbina would be able to defeat the beast, the cost in life would be exorbitant.

With these thoughts in mind, Deronis hastened his pace even more. It had been a few years since he had fought with his friends to end a similar threat, and he had grown much more powerful since then. He doubted, however, that he'd be able to do much more than slow the creature down, even with the help of the other white mage… assuming he was still alive by the time Deronis arrived. His only chance was to reach the beach first, and intercept the other mage. Hopefully Deronis would be able to get him to listen to reason, and call for additional support.

As he continued moving north however, he looked up at the sky and watched the setting sun fall, and knew deep inside that he would be too late.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Tales of a White Mage

Sands of Blood

(Chapter 3)

Night had already fallen by the time Deronis reached the tunnel leading to the secret beach. The evil aura was almost palpable this close to the source. Even the goblins who normally set up camps in the area were nowhere to be found, driven away by an unseen evil.

Deronis continued onwards, though each step filled him with more dread. He almost turned back as he reached the exit of the cave, fearing the sight that would await him. Silently asking Altana to lend him strength, he ignored his fears and stepped out into the open, scanning the beach that lay before him. Bodies lay everywhere. There were at least 12 young adventurers who had been torn asunder. One of them wore the ceremonial plate armor of the white order.

'I was too late.' Deronis thought to himself, as he dropped to one knee and began to pray for the fallen. 'It seems as though the demon has slain them all, and returned to whence it came.' Though upset by the loss of lives resultant from the disastrous battle, Deronis could not help but be relieved that the evil presence had vanished, instead of lingering as he had feared. However, a sudden scream from farther down the beach made him realize that he, and possibly many others, were not to be so lucky.

Deronis sprinted down the dark beach as fast as he could, attempting to find the origin of the screaming. He came upon a small alcove where a small group of young adventurers were backing against the sea cliff in terror, as a black skinned demon slowly advanced on them. A demon, it just so happened, that Deronis knew by name. "Marchelute…" He whispered to himself. 'But that's impossible. My friends and I destroyed him!' His thoughts racing, he continued to run towards the helpless group.

The young adventurers were trapped. They, like many on the secret beach, were the best up and coming warriors who still trained in the Valkurm Dunes. When a member of the White order had come to them and asked them for help in defeating a single foe, they had been more than happy to oblige. They had scoffed when he sought out and asked two more groups of adventurers to aid him as well. Surely he didn't think that he would require more than their most capable help, did he? Seeing no harm in it, however, they accompanied him and the alliance of adventurers to a spot where he claimed a great evil lay dormant, waiting to be vanquished. They had laughed and urged him on. "Call out your great evil and let us be done with it." They had said. If only they had known.

When the demon came forth, the entire alliance had attacked it all at once, hoping to secure victory quickly and get back to training. Two of them were dead before they could even swing their swords.

Stunned at the sudden loss of their friends, the adventurers backed away and kept their distance. Deciding not to get close enough for the monster to swing at them with its terrible sword, they let loose a volley of arrows in hopes of taking him out from range. The arrows bounced off the black armor that the creature wore on its chest, and its simply looked towards them, eyes emanating a cold, ageless rage.

That was when the truth of the situation first began to dawn on them. Still, they thought that victory was not unachievable. Surely the powerful white mage would be able to harm the beast. Indeed, their spirits were truly raised when the armored mage began to gather white magic to himself and prepare a powerful banishing spell. However, when the young mage stopped his casting to look down at the sword piercing through his magnificent armor, and his chest, their spirits plummeted back to earth like stones.

The 'battle' from that point on had been anything but. The surviving adventurers scattered, attempting to flee from the battle. Four of them, the best and bravest, attempted one last charge. So it was that the best and bravest were the first to fall. One by one the demon hunted down each of the survivors, until only three remained alive. Now, trapped between a rock wall and a being which must surely be the devil himself, it seemed as though they too would die. As the monster slowly closed in on them, they looked up defiantly, determined to look death in the eye. Instead of death, however, they saw only an incredibly bright light…

"Holy!" Deronis screamed, as soon as he was close enough to attack Marchelute with his magic. The demon let loose an unholy scream as its flesh was burned by the destructive force of pure white magic. However, as the light faded, it was apparent that the attack had been little more than an irritation. The monster halted his advance on the young adventurers and turned to fully face Deronis, who had finally arrived at the scene of the battle.

The sight of a new white mage, for indeed it was not the same one they had met earlier, momentarily stunned the young adventurers. As they got over their shock, however, the looked at one another and nodded. Silently they all pulled drew out their weapons, determined to help this new combatant or die trying.

"Stop!" Deronis yelled at them. Confused, the group lowered their weapons slightly. "None of you are prepared to join me in this fight. Quickly, while his attention is diverted, you must flee from this area at once! Travel to Selbina with all haste and call for reinforcements."

The young party, after having seen the previous massacre, didn't need to be told twice. They immediately attempted to circle around the battle in order to make it back to the tunnel, which was the only way in or out. Marchelute, however, didn't seem to be content with letting his victims escape with their lives. Raising one hand, he lit the sand itself on fire, trapping the three friends behind the blaze. With nowhere else to turn, they could only stay and watch as Deronis and Marchelute prepared to do combat.

'Damn' Deronis thought to himself. In truth, he realized that he had no more hope of defeating Marchelute than the young adventurers did. He had simply hoped to delay him long enough for them to escape, after which he himself would have attempted to flee. His magic could indeed get him out of this situation, and teleport him back into the safety of Jeuno. Doing so, however, would condemn these young fighters to death, and that was unacceptable.

There was only one solution. Deronis would have to stop Marchelute by himself, impossible though it may seem. Steeling himself for what would most certainly be a harrowing fight, he prepared for the demons inevitable attack. His only chance would to be to drag the fight out as long as possible. Marchelute, like many beings of darkness, would be unable to survive in the open sunlight. During the day, he would be forced to seek shelter in a cave or otherwise protected area, or be destroyed. If Deronis could drag the fight on until dawn, which was still an hour away, it was possible that he could force the demon to retreat long enough to call for support.

An hour, however, is a very long time. Marchelute burst into movement, attempting to skewer Deronis as he did the last unfortunate white mage. Deronis, however, was more prepared, and the weapon was tangled in a shadowy image, which stole away all of its forward movement. Deronis's blink effect wouldn't last forever though, and he quickly jumped away from the demon and drew his blessed hammer. Diving towards his enemy, Deronis swung the hammer with all his might, only to be intercepted by Marchelute's sword. For several minutes the combatants fought with one another. Deronis was clearly out-classed in melee combat, as was evidence by the many strikes which Marchelute had already landed on him. Luckily, his magic had so far been able to protect him, with several blows being intercepted by shadows, and others bouncing off him as though he were made of stone. His enchantments wouldn't last much longer though, and he knew it. Sure enough, the next time Marchelute's sword slipped past his defense it glanced off his armor, still striking hard enough to bruise the flesh beneath it. Had it been a direct hit, it would have pierced the armor completely. The demons strength was monstrous.

Deronis gathered his magic to himself quickly, in a desperate attempt to buy some time. "Flash!" He yelled, as he threw his arm forward. Their, in his palm, a bright light that could rival the sun in its intensity blinded Marchelute, causing him to stumble backwards and cry in pain. Acting quickly, Deronis moved away and began the lengthy task of recasting his defensive enchantments. It wouldn't be long before Marchelute regained his eyesight, and he would be even angrier than before once he did.

Deronis had barely finished his casting when he was forced to duck beneath a wild swing from Marchelute. It was clear that he was still having trouble seeing, but enough of his sight had returned that he was once again on the attack. Deronis pressed his advantage though, and landed several blows while his enemy was having trouble fighting back. Despite having landed many solid hits though, he didn't appear to be damaging Marchelute at all. All he had accomplished so far was to push the monster into a wild frenzy. Though poorly aimed, the ferocious strikes were wearing Deronis down, forcing him back into the defensive.

The moon continued its descent in the heavens as the battle raged on. Deronis, driven by his desire to protect the defenseless, and Marchelute, fueled by his rage against all living things. It seemed clear to the three observers that despite his valiant efforts, Deronis was losing. Trapped between walls of stone and flame, the young adventurers could do nothing but pray that Deronis, a member of the holy order of white mages, could somehow pull off a miracle.

Remembering the fate of another member of the white order, however, they couldn't help but fear for the worst.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Tales of a White Mage

Sands of Blood

(Chapter 4)

Deronis was losing. He had thus far made an admirable effort in containing the unstoppable force that was Marchelute, but he was reaching the end of his bag of tricks. It had been over 45 minutes since the start of the fight. Deronis had only managed to drag it out this long by using hit and run tactics, forcing Marchelute to chase him back and forth across the sands. After nearly losing an arm to one of the demons wild attacks, Deronis hadn't dared to attempt to re-engage him in close range combat. Blood was flowing steadily from a deep wound in his shoulder, and several lesser injuries all across his body. His white magic would keep him alive, despite the blood loss, but he was exhausted. Physically, and even worse, magically.

Grimacing, he pulled himself together for another round. Marchelute was currently stuck in a patch of sand Deronis had soaked with water, using a minor spell of the dark arts he had learned during his studies abroad. While he was normally hesitant to use any such spells, he _did_ know of them, and how to use them. In a situation like this, he was sure his goddess would forgive him for using a small amount of black magic.

Deronis stumbled slightly as he tried to stand. 'Only ten more minutes. You can handle that, their lives depend on it.' Deronis thought to himself. 'And so does yours.'

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a wild scream of rage, as Marchelute broke out of the impromptu quick sand and ran into Deronis with his shoulder. Consumed with rage, Marchelute threw down his sword and began to attack Deronis with his bare hands. Deronis was pummeled mercilessly until Marchelute finally lifted him off the ground and threw him right in front of the wall of flames that had been created to cage in the fledgling adventurers, who had been turned into mere hostages. They looked on in horror as Deronis lay on the ground in front of them, dying.

Deronis looked up at Marchelute as he slowly stalked towards the prone mage, intent on beating the helpless mage to death. He could hardly see through the blood in his eyes, and he could feel the life leaving his broken body. Through all the pain, he never once broke his gaze from the eyes of the demon Marchelute, as he continued moving closer. In mere moments, Marchelute was right above him, looking down upon his fallen enemy. The three young adventurers abandoned all hopes at survival as Marchelute drew back his fist, prepared to finish the heroic mage off for good.

"Benediction!" Deronis screamed with a hoarse voice, his throat as bruised and beaten as the rest of his body. An intense white light surrounded not only Deronis, but the three adventurers as well. They suddenly felt lighter, as though they had been fully rejuvenated. As satisfying as the return of their health was, it was nothing compared to the restoration of their spirits. There, in front of them, Deronis stood completely renewed. Hope was still alive.

Driven back and stunned by the sudden white aura, Marchelute didn't know what hit him as Deronis pushed forward, pounding at him with his blessed hammer with renewed vigor. Deronis's physical strength had been completely restored, and Marchelute was unarmed against his sudden and unexpected attack. Deronis let loose a flurry of hammer swings with a strength he didn't know he possessed, each impacting on the defenseless demon with a force that would crush stones. As he pulled back his blessed hammer for another swing, however, Marchelute's fist caught him squarely on the side of the head. Stunned, Deronis could do little to defend himself as Marchelute once again took the offensive, pounding on Deronis with his bare fists. As Deronis was thrown backwards from the sheer power of the attacks, he looked up and saw that Marchelute was completely unharmed, despite having been hit with his best efforts.

Deronis nearly abandoned all hope at this point, but as the sky began to lighten and grow brighter, he realized that his attacks had served another purpose. Dawn was nearly upon them. He only needed to stall the demon for a few more moments, and then nature would finish the job. An idea was slowly beginning to form in his mind. He had once studied a dark spell which might be able to incapacitate Marchelute long enough to suit his purposes. However, being a dark creature himself, Marchelute might be able to escape the spells effects before the sunrise. It was a gamble that Deronis had to take.

Backing away from Marchelute as he continued his deadly advance, Deronis thought back to the training of a powerful old black mage he had come across in his travels. 'You must be at one with the elements. It is from them that true power is obtained. Your god can not help you with this task, young white mage. Nature is the benefactor of elemental magic, not any deities.' Blasphemous, Deronis had thought at the time. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures…

Drawing power from the air around him, the sand under him, from the very elements themselves, he began to gather energy for one last spell. As his power began to reach heights they had never known before, he pictured the spell he wanted to cast in his mind, above a burning seal that represented the forces of the elements. As the seal and the spell combined, he looked Marchelute in the eye and shouted "Bind!" Dark magic more powerful than any he had ever cast before rushed through Deronis's veins. Tendrils of pure darkness reached up from the ground beneath Marchelute, covering his legs and torso, rendering him immobile. With a roar of fury, Marchelute struggled against the bonds of darkness, but to no effect. He was stuck fast.

Exhausted, Deronis collapsed to the ground. 'I can't believe I did it.' He thought to himself. Behind him, the three young adventurers were laughing and crying at the same time, ecstatic to have survived the night. As the sky continued to lighten, Marchelute struggled in vain against his dark chains, roaring in anger. So it was that when Marchelute suddenly stopped yelling, and even struggling, that Deronis began to be concerned. A dark aura of unimaginable strength seemed to be growing around the devilish creature, and a wicked grin had broken out on its face. Determined to face whatever new threat this may be, Deronis wearily got back up on his feet.

The demon looked at Deronis with such malice and hatred that it actually startled him. The darkness surrounding Marchelute suddenly swelled, and then just as quickly, shrunk down to the size of a small ball in his hand. "Dimensional Death." The demon uttered in a voice that no living thing had heard in over one-hundred years. The ball of darkness shot out at Deronis and engulfed him in dark flames that burned away his armor and flesh.

Deronis didn't scream as the spell tore at his body. Not out of any kind of toughness or courage though. The air in his lungs had been superheated and burned his throat and chest from the inside out. Pain unimaginable was all that Deronis could comprehend. The last thing Deronis saw, which filled him with some measure of peace, was the sun rising over the sea cliff.

As the sun rose on a new day, the three young adventurers watched in horror as two beings were both encased in flames and fell to the sands, dead.

In a wordless vow, each of them looked at the fallen mage and pledged to remember the sacrifice he made for them, without even knowing their names. They spent the rest of the day burying the dead, and erecting a small monument of stones where the white mage was buried. They agreed to travel back to Selbina and tell the story of the white mage to all who would listen, in hopes of determining if he had left and surviving kin. With one last look back at the sands covered in blood, they began the long walk home.

Next chapter: Epilogue


	5. Chapter 5

Tales of a White Mage

Sands of Blood

(Epilogue)

The Battle of the Bloody Sands, as it was now being called, was the talk of the town in Selbina. The three survivors had arrived five days earlier, and their incredible story had quickly been retold throughout the entire settlement. Rumors flew everywhere about the identity of the mysterious white mage who sacrificed his life to slay the evil demon Marchelute. This was the kind of story that the people of the small settlement thrived upon, and the majority of its inhabitants delighted in retelling the latest version of events to anyone and everyone who would listen.

There were, however, some inhabitants who didn't get caught up in the excited atmosphere of the town. The three survivors were very sullen, mourning the loss of friends and saviors alike. Elsewhere in the town, a young warrior and black mage had shed many tears over the loss of someone who had done so much for them. Unlike everyone else in the town, Lantis and Linya knew the name of the mysterious hero. They couldn't find the heart to join in with the rampant rumor mill though, and doubted that Deronis would have even wanted them to.

As the burning sun began to descend in the sky once more, a man in a dark cloak entered the town and slowly walked to the nearest tavern. Exhausted, the wanderer wanted nothing more than to purchase a hot meal and a clean room. Every part of his body seemed to scream at him with every step he took. 'Dying always does hurt like hell,' he thought to himself.

It had been nearly a day after his death that the re-raise spell had taken effect. Weakened and injured, it had taken him nearly two weeks to make his way back to Selbina. He had finally made it, however, and would soon be able to rest…

When he reached the tavern, he moved directly to the bar and took a seat. He waited for the bartender to come over, and purchased both a meal and a room. As he sat there silently nursing his drink, an elderly Hume sitting next to him turned and said, "Hey stranger, have you heard about the battle up at the secret beach? They say some white mage saved a few kids from some kind of demon. There's another rumor goin around that he actually brought some poor soul back from the dead."

Deronis turned to the old man and shrugged. "I'm just passing through the area looking for some scrolls. I hadn't heard any rumors. Do you by chance know of any merchants in the area who sell arcane objects?"

"Yea, as a matter of fact I do. There are a pair of elves over by the cloth crafters guild that sell magic scrolls nice and cheap. Now, you say you haven't heard any of these stories? Well, you're in for a treat. I haven't heard of anything this exciting in quite a while."

Deronis sat back contentedly, happy to have at last found the objective he had originally set out for. Tomorrow, he would go and browse the inventory of the scroll merchants, and after that… who knows? He would simply go where Altana willed him to. For now though… he sat back and listened to the old man as he told tales of a white mage.

The end.

Authors Notes:

This was the first, but perhaps not last, story I had in mind for Deronis the white mage. This was the way I originally intended to end the story, though I must admit I was quite tempted to leave Deronis dead after the fourth chapter and write my next story focusing on Lantis and Linya. I still might write a side story about them at some point, but for now any future stories will probably still start Deronis as the main character.

Vivli, thank you for all of your reviews. Regarding the fourth chapter, I was trying to describe the ability "Elemental Seal" without actually using the name of it. Deronis used this ability, which increases the potency of the next black magic spell, right before casting bind. That's why it seemed a little more complex than it should have been.

I know I don't update all that consistently, but I hope to be back with a second story soon.


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